


four strong winds (that blow lonely)

by kadaransmuggler



Series: they've forgiven my mistakes [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, angst mages, the circle sucks and so does the chantry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16713712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadaransmuggler/pseuds/kadaransmuggler
Summary: "Joining the Wardens is the second easiest choice she has ever made. The first had black hair, golden eyes, and too much confidence for his own damn good."Or, the Hero of Ferelden lived in Ostwick for a time. Enough time for an ill-fated love affair.





	four strong winds (that blow lonely)

As Caspian Trevelyan grows older in the Circle, he develops a set of rules. They are rules easy to adhere to, the tenants he uses to build himself until he knows he will not be broken by the Templars or by the demons that haunt his sleep.

The first rule is that he cannot show the Templars that he feels. And he cannot show other mages how he feels either, because the Templars have ways of finding these things. Though he was only ten when he was taken, he had already learned enough about being the Bann’s bastard son to know how to hide his emotions and his thoughts. His time in the Circle allows him to perfect this.

The second rule branches off of the first. He is not to garner any attachments. Any of these attachments, of course, will only make it easier for the Templars or for the demons to break him. While it might be possible to hide the depths of a friendship from his jailers, there is no fooling the demons. They know him intimately, after all.

And the third rule consists of keeping his head down. If the Templars or his teachers or the First Enchanter suspect that he is much better than what he lets on, they will scrutinize him. And that scrutiny will only make it harder to survive in the Circle. So he lets them think he is only mediocre. It is, after all, the best and easiest way to avoid detection.

When Caspian sees Echo Surana, he knows instantly that all of his rules were made to be broken. 

* * *

She is young when she comes to Ostwick, but all of them are. Caspian had only been there long enough to learn the rhythm of the tower and to develop his rules. But then, it was late for her magic to have been discovered. He wonders if she was only pretending to be new to magic, if she had truly been hiding as an apostate all this time.

That night at supper, there is a voice in his head telling him to stay in his seat. For once, Caspian does not listen. He sits down across from Echo at an otherwise empty table, and introduces himself with warmth glittering in his golden eyes. 

* * *

They are friends, after that. Years pass. Echo learns that there is more to Caspian than he reveals. She never tells him he should show the mentors the true depth of his power, only that she had known he was extraordinary from the first meeting.

Together, they decide to become spirit healers. Much of their time after that is spent in lessons or in the library. 

* * *

The library is where it happens first. It is late at night, all the others in their beds. The Templars had permitted them to stay up later after a signed note from the First Enchanter- they were researching new theoretical practices that could help mages as a whole better understand spirit healing. And so the two of them had the whole library to themselves.

Papers are spread across the table, several jars of ink scattered amongst it. Caspian knows there is no less than a dozen quills, and yet whenever he reaches for one to jot down his thoughts, he always finds that he must search for a moment before he finds one. Echo is sitting in her chair, cross-legged, the tip of the feather between her teeth. Her blonde hair, slowly escaping the braids she wore it in, framed her face. The magelight cast her in strange shadows.

Caspian had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. A moment passes that turns into several, where Caspian can no longer focus on the words on the pages. Instead, he is focusing on Echo in his peripheral vision, on the way she furrows her brows and leans closer to the page as if it will make the words make sense.

“Echo?” he says, very suddenly. She does not jump, only lowers the book and places the quill in the spine.

“Yes?” she asks, looking up at him. Exhaustion lingers in her violet eyes, but warmth does too. It’s always there when she looks at him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, already putting his book down.

“Oh,” she says, blinking at him for a moment. And then, “Yes. I think I’d like that.”

He leans across the table, fingers tangling in her hair and angling her face towards his. An inkwell tips over, ink spilling over their notes, but neither of them care. In that moment there is only the two of them.

They tell themselves that it doesn’t mean anything. 

* * *

It was a quiet thing between them. Has to be, to keep the Templars from noticing. Notes passed during meals, silent looks passed in the hallways and in their lectures, hurried kisses hidden in the library.

It was supposed to be something fun. Something to make them feel like they were flouting the rules, something to make them feel young and reckless and altogether real in a way that was often lacking in the Circle. And just as it was a quiet, hidden thing between them, the realization was a quiet thing too.

Echo would always swear that she had realized first, and would always remember that she had been washing dishes when she did. It had been a punishment for speaking out of turn to one of the senior Templars. Echo didn’t mind. The pruny fingers were well worth the satisfaction that she’d gotten from seeing anger flash on Graves’ face- she took pleasure in the small defiances because those were the only ones that were safe.

But that wasn’t what she was thinking about as she washed the dishes. It was not what she had been thinking about earlier that day, instead of paying attention to her lectures. So that night at supper she passed him a note. It was easy enough for them to slip away- her ten minutes before he did, to keep the Templars from suspecting anything.

They met in the storage closet on the third floor. Templar patrols rarely passed the area- they would have time. That didn’t stop Echo’s nerves from jangling until he walked in.

Caspian Trevelyan, of course, did not appear to be nervous. He’d long since perfected the mask he wore, and it was only when he darted forward to pull her into a kiss that the facade faded away. When he pulled back, concern glinted in his golden eyes.

“What did you need to talk about?” he asks, a tightness in his voice betraying his own anxiety. Echo took a moment for this- them- and buried her face in his chest. Upon reflection, it was not the bravest confession, but confessing it at all was brave enough in Echo’s opinion.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she says, finally, voice muffled in Caspian’s robes. She had expected…she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but she thinks she might have been expecting him to tense beneath her. To turn and walk away. To end this where it was, before it could hurt too much.

Instead, Echo felt him press her against the wall, tipping her chin back until her eyes met his.

“We’ll regret this,” he says, but there’s something hungry and reckless and dangerous in his eyes, and Echo falls just a little further in love with him. He surges forward before she can respond, the hard line of his lips melting into hers. She tangles her fingers in his robes, pulling him closer.

Caspian is the one who breaks the kiss. He always is. But tonight, there’s something different about him, something hard and angry, like his broken edges are just a little more jagged than usual. Echo doesn’t mind, though. There’s something defiant and reckless boiling under her own skin tonight.

“I can live with that,” she answers, a hard tilt to her jaw. Caspian laughs low in her ear, teeth scraping against the point of it in a way that makes her shiver.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he breathes. He kisses her again, and he keeps kissing her until the heavy sounds of Templar boots pass by. They stay pressed together, hearts beating fast in the quiet and cramped space until the footsteps fade into the distance. They untangle themselves and step back, but Caspian gives her one last kiss before he steps out of the closet. 

* * *

Six months later, he stands in the rain, Graves’ hand heavy on his shoulder, and watches until she’s out of sight. Kinloch will be kinder to her, he thinks, but it is a hollow thing much like his heart. The world was never kind to elves or to mages, and Echo Surana had the unfortunate luck to be both of those things. 

* * *

Years later, when Echo stands in front of a choice, she remembers this: golden eyes, wild and dangerous and doing something when she knows she shouldn’t.

Joining the Wardens is the second easiest choice she has ever made. The first one had black hair, golden eyes, and too much confidence for his own damn good.

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly some set up for future writing plans but i hope you enjoy it all the same


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